


Take a Chance on Me

by how_about_no



Series: Chances [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dating, Developing Relationship, Diners, F/M, M/M, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_about_no/pseuds/how_about_no
Summary: Richie managed to prove that his feelings for Eddie were genuine, but now Eddie has to actually date him. How is that going to work?*A sequel to Three Chances, can be read as a stand alone fic but I recommend reading part one first.





	Take a Chance on Me

**Author's Note:**

> here i am continuing this fic because i have fallen in love with it
> 
> this fic is going to be ongoing for quite a while. i don't have an actual plan for how this is going to go, but im hopefully going to add to it often
> 
> here's to eddie and richie dating and being cute :)

“Your knees are digging into my side.”

“You’re not holding on tight enough!”

“Just stop shuffling or I’m gonna fall over, Eds!”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

This was not working. This was not working at all. Eddie saying he’d go on a date with Richie was apparently the worst fucking idea he’d ever had. Richie carried him up the hill like he’d said, but then didn’t let him down again, insisting it was chivalrous. The further they walked the worse it was getting.

Still, Eddie couldn’t help but notice how Richie’s hair smelt. It was fresh and fruity, not like he expected at all. His shoulders were kind of bony, but they held Eddie up with next to no effort. The denim jacket he wore was clearly loved, and if he wasn’t holding on for dear life, Eddie would have run his fingertips over the patch on Richie’s shoulder.

“Quiet contemplation back there.” Richie said, making Eddie snap back to reality, “Watcha thinking about?”

 _You_. “About the fries and milkshake that I’m going to make you buy me.”

“You’re not making me to anything, sweetheart. I’m treating you.”

 _Don’t call me sweetheart._ It was on the tip of Eddie’s tongue but instead of saying anything he just blushed and looked away. Goddammit. Before he could even try to formulate a reply, he was being lowered to the floor.

“Okay?” Richie kept a hand on Eddie’s side, just under his ribs, and it sent a shock of warmth right through him. He would probably say that it was on there because of Eddie’s ankle, but the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

“Okay.” Eddie quickly walked away and into the diner. He knew he was being unreasonable, that this was technically a date and he couldn’t brush off Richie’s advances like he was just another germ. It was instinctual.

The thing was with Eddie was that he didn’t trust people. Ever since he was little his mom warned him about germs and diseases and the fact that other people were riddled with them. His dad wasn’t around, died when he was a baby, so the only adult Eddie had to listen to was her. He believed every word she said.

All that changed last year. Eddie finally confronted his mom about all these supposed ‘illnesses’ he had and why he was never allowed to do anything fun. It was all fake. All of it. Eddie threw all his meds away, including the stupid fucking fanny packs he carried them around in.

His life was boring, collected, same friends, same hobbies, same school. He never ventured outside of that and that was fine. He knew he wasn’t diseased, but that didn’t mean all that germ shit didn’t get to him. Just looking at the diner he could almost see every place someone with dirty hands had touched.

Eddie took a deep breath.

Then there was Richie.

Richie was a constant too. He was there in primary school, taking the piss and pulling Eddie’s (metaphorical) pigtails. He was there in middle school, complimenting Eddie’s fanny packs and winking from across the school yard. He was there in high school, yelling compliments across the hallway and, eventually, proving he liked Eddie as more than just an object to tease.

Richie stood next to Eddie with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face. He said something to the waitress that came up to them, and it ended with a wink. She smiled knowingly and led them to a booth by the windows. Eddie wasn’t listening to any of it. All he could think about was the fact that he was here, with Richie, with the germs, and _God_ where was his aspirator when he needed it?

“Come on, the seat won’t bite.”

Richie was already sat down on one side of the booth, taking his jacket off with what seemed like a struggle. He huffed quietly and shoved the jacket down behind him, so it hung off the seat around his hips. Eddie needed to look away from his hips.

“I don’t-” Eddie bit his lip, knowing he was about to make a fool of himself on his first date in forever- “do you have any more of those-?”

“Ah,” Richie simply nodded and dug around in the jacket’s pockets. He produced the wipes with a flourish and held them out with as grand a bow he was capable of while sat at a table, “For you, my dear.”

“Shut up.” Eddie rolled his eyes and snatched the packet. He carefully wiped down the table and seat, then put the wipe next to the condiments under the window. He sat down, trying not to think about how many germs he might have missed.

“-at the carnival.” Eddie tuned in to Richie’s sentence a few seconds too late.

“Sorry?”

“That.” Richie waved a hand in the direction of the discarded wipe, putting the packet away, “You didn’t do it at the carnival. The Ferris wheel.”

Eddie didn’t really want to admit that he only needed to do it when he was stressed. The school counsellor said it was a control thing, that when he was in a situation he was uncomfortable or uncertain in, he would gain back some certainty by cleaning. Eddie didn’t know if he believed it. It held true for most situations, though, like today.

“It just looked dirty.” Eddie shrugged, avoiding the question. Richie may be cute and, goddammit, charming, but he hadn’t earned the lock and key to all Eddie’s secrets. He probably never would, “Are we ordering or what? I’m starving from putting up with your shit for longer than usual.”

“You wound me, Eds.” Richie said, but he was smiling. He picked up two menus from the counter and handed one to Eddie while keeping one for himself. While he was up, Eddie let himself appreciate the lines of his body. He’d never really looked at Richie in any other way than annoyance. Deep down Eddie always knew he was attractive, but he never let himself think about it as anything more than a passing comment.

When Richie sat back down he looked at Eddie with a small smirk. He totally knew.

“So,” Eddie cleared his throat and stared resolutely at his menu, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks, “What are you getting?”

“Whatever you’re getting.” Richie wasn’t even looking at his menu. When Eddie chanced a glance at him, his eyes were on Eddie, unmoving, unapologetic. There was that heat again. Were the menus big enough to cover his face without it being obvious?

“That’s putting a lot of pressure on me to make a good choice.”

“I trust your opinion.”

“That’s a mistake.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you like pickles?”

“Is that a euphemism, baby?”

“Beep beep.” Eddie couldn’t help his small laugh, “Seriously, though. I love pickles and I’m gonna ask for extra on my burger and if you don’t-”

“Eddie,” Richie huffed a small laugh, “I like pickles. Stop worrying. You realise I’m the one who begged for this date, right? You don’t have to impress me.”

“I’m _not_ trying to impress you.” Eddie scowled. It was so easy to fall back into bickering, to disagree with anything Richie said, but it was true. He was trying to impress Richie. Or, at least, he was trying to not look like an idiot.

Richie was so effortlessly himself that it made Eddie wish he was like that. He over thought everything, couldn’t take a joke most of the time, and was so unsure of himself that he had to wipe down surfaces with a fucking disinfectant wipe to feel comfortable.

“But, if you want my advice,” Richie leant forward and gestured for Eddie to do the same. He looked around like he was checking no one was listening in. Eddie could see his own reflection in Richie’s glasses, and glanced down as Richie licked his lips, “get the double chocolate caramel milkshake, and ask for it with ‘the stuff’. You won’t regret it.”

“The stuff.” Eddie copied Richie’s quietened voice, “Knowing you, that’s something I definitely don’t want on my milkshake.”

Richie laughed at that, a genuine teeth-showing laugh that made Eddie stomach clench.

“Trust me, spaghetti.” He winked.

“Fine.” Eddie leant away when he realised just how close they were. He was practically climbing on the table to get even less distance between himself and Richie, which was _not_ the impression he wanted to give, “I know what I’m getting.”

“You look cute when you blush.”

“Shut up.” Eddie hid his face behind his menu. When he put it down again, the waitress from before was stood at the end of their table with a notepad and a smile, “Can we have two ‘Double-y Delicious Cheese Burgers’ with extra pickles, and curly fries, then two double chocolate and caramel milkshakes-”

“With the stuff.”

“Yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, putting his menu down on the table, “with the stuff.”

The waitress gave them both a smile before walking away. Eddie slouched back in his seat, ignoring his mother’s voice in his head telling him that slouching gave you arthritis.

Out the window, a couple of kids were running around the parking lot. The girl had blue bows in her hair and the boy had socks with sandals. He looked about seven, though, so Eddie couldn’t fault him for the fashion faux pas. He tilted his head, listening to a couple behind their booth talk about the pros and cons of holding hands during a movie. It was cute, really, and it made Eddie smile.

“Think about me over there, princess?”

“Just thinking about fries again.” Eddie lied easily, turning back to Richie to see his eyes on him again, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” Richie asked, still staring. He was tapping his fingers on the table, and Eddie watched as his long fingers seemed to dance. His pale skin almost matched the white of the table.

“Stare.” Eddie said eventually.

“Well, you’re doing it too.” Richie wiggled the fingers of the hand that Eddie was (fuck) still staring at.

“Can we go back to talking about how you begged to date me?”

“I don’t mind you staring, I like it.” Richie said with a laugh. He started tapping his fingers again and laughed when Eddie’s eyes immediately snapped to his hand, “Does this irritate you?”

“No, its- you- you have nice-” Eddie held up his own hand, then immediately put his face in it, “God, just kill me now.”

“Cute, cute, _cute.”_ Richie pinched the cheek not covered by Eddie’s hand, and Eddie looked up at him through his eyelashes, “You’re such a cutie, Eddie Spaghetti, it blows my fucking mind.”

“Shut up.” Eddie wished he still had the menu to cover his face, but somehow someone had taken them away while he and Richie were talking.

They bickered back and forth for ten minutes before their food arrived, and Eddie scarfed it down as an excuse not to talk and end up putting his foot in his mouth again. God, why was he so embarrassing? One cute guy sits in front of him and he turns to fucking mush. Why did Richie have this effect on him?

“I love a man that can eat.” Richie said teasingly, and Eddie choked on a curly fry. He hadn’t even had a sip of his milkshake yet. It had whipped cream and sprinkles on top, but when Eddie asked if that was the stuff, Richie just laughed.

“It’s a race. And I’m winning.”

“I think I’m the one winning, here.”

Eddie looked down at his plate and compared it to Richie’s. There was clearly less food on his.

“That’s bullshit! Look how much more I’ve eaten than you!”

“No, Eds,” Richie leant forward with a smirk Eddie knew to mean he was about to say something ridiculous, “I’m winning because I’m on a date with the cutest guy in the world.”

“I’m going to kill you.” Eddie said, but his blush probably betrayed his words.

Once they’d finished their food, they both held their milkshakes with matching excitement, though Eddie’s was laced with anticipation.

“Are you ready for the greatest milkshake in the world?”

“I didn’t know you came here often enough to know the secret specials.” Eddie said, because he’d been thinking it since they arrived.

“I come here when my par-” Richie visibly stopped himself- “when I’m bored as shit. All the staff here love me, and probably want to sleep with me.”

“You think everyone wants to sleep with you.”

“That’s because everyone does, baby,” Richie dipped his finger in the cream on top of the milkshake, “I have this thing called allure,” He licked the cream up and tilted his head, “People want to be around me and be _with_ me if you know what I mean.”

“A monkey would know what you mean, Richie.” Eddie grabbed his straw and started drinking, “Oh, my God.” Eddie moaned.

“Good, huh?” Richie was already half way through his own drink, somehow having gotten chocolate in the corners of his mouth.

“So good.” Eddie took small sips. His stomach was already stuffed from eating his burger and fries so quickly. He could never finish all this.

“Struggling there, Eds?”

“No.”

Richie raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Fine!” Eddie threw his hands out, “I’m fucking full. You happy?”

“Ecstatic!” Richie shoved his empty glass to one side and pulled Eddie’s practically full one, so it was halfway between them, “This means we can have the full diner date experience.” He took the straw from his own drink and added it to Eddies.

_Germs, germs, germs!_

“You want to share it?” Eddie swallowed nervously.

“Like a fifties date. You be the cool biker dude, and I’ll get a puffy skirt.”

“I think I’d be the girl.” Eddie kept talking, to delay the inevitable.

“I’d look better in a skirt.”

He nodded at the straw Eddie was purposely neglecting, clearly wanting to get started on the whole ‘sharing a milkshake’ thing.

“I don’t know…” Eddie started shaking his head and Richie’s smile fell.

“Oh, oh of course.” Richie leant back in his seat, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”

The frown Richie was trying to hide made Eddie’s heart break. It was the Ferris wheel all over again. He remembered seeing Richie staring out over the carnival, his face falling more and more by the second. Suddenly the metal bar wasn’t covered in germs, it was just something to lean on, so he could be closer to the boy that was trying to tell him how he felt.

Now, he was on a date with that boy, and the milkshake didn’t seem so intimidating anymore.

“Come on,” Eddie said, “This milkshake isn’t going to drink itself.”

“Really?” Richie beamed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “I need this committed to memory.”

“I’ll change my mind so quick, Richie Tozier, I swear to God.”

“Okay, okay,” Richie fiddled with his phone then got the waitress to come over again, “Take a photo of us, would you, sweetheart? I only just convinced this babe to go on a date with me, so I want to remember this forever if he leaves me.”

“Take much longer to get this photo taken and I’m leaving _right now.”_

“Y’all are cute.” The waitress said, taking Richie’s phone, “Pose and I’ll get this taken.”

They both leant over the milkshake and posed with the straws in their mouths. Richie simply nodded in thanks once the woman took the photo and put the phone down on the table.

Eddie watched Richie as they drank. He cast his eyes over his cheekbones, dusted with light freckles Eddie hadn’t noticed before. His lips looked chapped around the straw. Eddie thought about the chap stick in his pocket and wanted to offer it to him.

Richie looked up. He smiled slightly and looked between Eddie’s eyes with a sparkle that made him nearly choke on the milkshake. It took him a moment to realise he was slurping on air. Eddie leant away slowly.

“Wait, wait. You forgot the best bit.” Richie dug around with his straw and pulled something out from the bottom of the glass, “The stuff.”

“Bubblegum?” Eddie took the ball from where it was resting between Richie’s straw and the glass.

“Caramel flavour, too.”

“That’s amazing.” Eddie plopped it into his mouth, licking his fingers to get the residue milkshake off. He saw Richie watching him in the corner of his eye and smirked, “Now who has ‘allure’?”

“Definitely you.” Richie agreed with no protest, catching Eddie off guard and sending him off to fucking blushville again.

They spent another few minutes chatting, Richie flirting, and Eddie telling him to shut up. He offered to walk Eddie home which reminded him of his ankle.

“My-”

“Ankle?” Richie finished for him, “I gotcha. Bev was meeting Ben in town, so she drove here and said I can use it to drive you home.”

“You can drive?” Eddie was suddenly picturing Richie behind the wheel of a Chevrolet, windows open, hair blowing in the wind, singing whatever was on the radio at the top of his lungs.

“Bevvie would say no,” Richie waved a hand, “but yes.”

A bill paid and twenty minutes later, Richie was giving Eddie a piggy back ride to a small red car outside.

“You really didn’t have to carry me, Richie.”

“Anything for my princess, Eds.”

“Aren’t you the one that said I’m not the girl in this relationship?”

“Relationship, huh?”

“Shut up.” Eddie buried his face in the base of Richie’s neck. He huffed a laugh and heard Richie’s breath hitch, “Thank you.” It was whispered into the material of the denim jacket, but he knew Richie would hear it.

“For what?” Richie’s voice was quiet, softer than it had been for the last two hours.

“Just-” Eddie sighed, leaning away again- “thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Seeing Richie being gentle was like watching a roaring fire turn to embers.

Fire Richie was untouchable. Fire Richie burned down buildings and left once they turned to ashes.

Embers Richie brought comfort. Embers Richie warmed hands and glowed even when the night turned cold.

Eddie didn’t know when things changed, when he started seeing Richie as someone to hold onto, someone he could trust and touch a dirty bar and contaminated straw for. Somehow the guy who shouted objectifying shit at him from across the hallway turned into the guy who helped him disinfect his grazes and carried him because he was hurt.

Filled with warmth, Eddie looked across at Richie in the driver’s seat. The journey passed in a blur. Richie didn’t sing to the radio, he didn’t even turn it on. He simply smiled at the road and glanced at Eddie every few minutes, his smile getting wider every time.

Maybe they didn’t have everything sorted, maybe Eddie would never be able to open up about his mother and how her Munchausen by proxy still affected him every day. But they were here, happy in each other’s company, and he was so excited to see where they would end up.

 _Oh God,_ he needed to tell Bill and Stan that he went on a date with Richie Fucking Tozier.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading babes
> 
> tumblr: kaspcrap


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